


Lost and Found

by vivvav



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Gen, The AFR Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-14 12:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11782818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivvav/pseuds/vivvav
Summary: An older Yusuke finally makes his big break in the art world. This new spotlight on him brings him to the attention of many critics, collectors, and fellow artists. But it also attracts a man he never thought he'd meet.





	1. A Keen Eye

It had been seven years since the Phantom Thieves first formed, and life had changed pretty drastically for all of them. All of them were out of school now, either through naturally graduating or dropping out. Ren looked pretty much the same as he did back in high school, just a bit taller. He was now directly working as Governor Yoshida’s right-hand man, and there was already buzz in the political world that he was going to be the next big thing to keep an eye on. He was pretty happy with his personal life too. Once he finally finished college, he and Makoto moved in together, though at this point there were no official plans for marriage between the two. In regards to her own career, Makoto had finally joined the police force, although she wasn’t making a big name for herself yet. On a personal front, she was making a different kind of big impression as she started to finally grow into that unnatural Niijima height that her older sister possessed. She wasn’t quite as tall as Sae— although she didn’t seem far off— but she was already half a head taller than Ren at this point, though it didn’t really change the dynamic of their relationship at all (indeed, Futaba liked to joke that it just accurately reflected the power dynamic between them now, though the couple was quick to dismiss such comments).

Ryuji had been working as a bodyguard for some time for a private security firm, currently assigned to watch over the child of some politician during the daytime. This proved to be a really good fit for him, as Ryuji had a knack for getting along with kids. For a while he experimented with different styles of facial hair and going back to black, but eventually he decided to stick with a soul patch, which he dyed blonde like the rest of his hair. Work was good for Ryuji, but his real happiness was with Hifumi Togo. Having long abandoned her stigma as the “false princess” of the shogi world, Hifumi had grown into a respected player with an impressive winning record, and the tabloids’ announcement of her engagement to Ryuji had broken more than a few hearts.

Ann was jet setting around the world for her modeling career, though she managed to schedule work in Tokyo fairly often. She enjoyed the travel, but it had put a real strain on her relationship with Shiho, and after a few excruciating years of “will-they won’t-they” in college, she didn’t want to cause her best friend turned girlfriend any more stress. As such, she was currently trying to break into the world of acting like she had dreamed of when she was younger, although it wasn’t easy for her. She actually wound up putting her modeling career on hold for a while so she could take dedicated acting lessons. There had been some improvement over the past half year, but progress was slow.

Futaba dropped out of college after her second year, having her pick of offers from at least a dozen international cyber security companies. Not doing well with all the attention, she wound up going with the fattest, least attention-drawing paycheck offered: That presented by the Japanese government. Sojiro was both proud that Futaba was somehow taking after him in this regard but also terrified by the prospect. Still, after finding out enough about the people she’d be working for thanks to some old contacts of his, he became less worried. Futaba didn’t see what the big deal was. She was still living with him in Yongen-Jaya anyway.

Haru was kept busy as Cafe Noir had really taken off. She had hired a small staff to keep up with all the demand, which in turn afforded her some time to keep a more attentive eye on Okumura Foods’ operations. So far, she was impressed with the board’s direction, but she would sometimes pay a visit to headquarters to make suggestions and voice concerns. The cafe had quite the eclectic mix of clientele, especially once Iwai told a bunch of his friends about the place. On Thursday evenings, after the cafe would close normally, Haru would stay open a few extra hours to accommodate a club of sorts for retired yakuza members. It did not take long for Makoto to ingratiate herself with this crowd once she learned about it. Ostensibly she attended these meetings to make sure Haru wasn’t in danger and for 'research purposes', but there was no hiding the smile on her face whenever she heard these older men tell stories about old fights and the days when there was honor among the 'chivalrous organizations'. Thankfully, Cafe Noir was popular among normal clientele as well, especially once Morgana started hanging around and became the establishment’s mascot. He realized he may very well never become human, but to nobody’s surprise, Morgana was just fine with being doted on by the masses, and enjoyed his status as a local celebrity in Jinbocho.

The man of the hour, however, was Yusuke. After returning from a year in Okinawa where he tried to capture the sea in his paintings, he found himself with a surplus of unexpected works made in the spur of the moment. Some of Yusuke’s associates in the art community found his 'Okinawa Collection' particularly inspired, and not too long after his return to Tokyo he found his work being featured in a public gallery. Yusuke's career was finally taking off. Not only had all of his friends attended the gallery, but there were many attendees from Kosei High, as well as other art enthusiasts and even laymen who had heard of his work through word of mouth. Frankly, Yusuke never expected this much attention. Every time the gallery of his works was full of onlookers, he had to work to maintain his composure, lest the monocle he’d become accustomed to wearing were to pop off.

Tonight, there was a large celebration in Cafe Noir. Yusuke’s gallery was the focus of a news story, and he was going to be on TV. This was his big break, and he wanted to share it with all of the people closest to him. Naturally, all the other Phantom Thieves were there. Sojiro too of course, though as always he couldn’t help scanning Haru’s shop to make sure everything was up to his standards. Hifumi had been invited too. Yusuke had become quite friendly with her since she started dating Ryuji, and she became the first classmate of his at Kosei High that he considered a genuine friend. Dr. Takemi and Chihaya Mifune were in attendance as well, the doctor being something of an intellectual sparring partner for Yusuke (though it was really more a conflict of artistic whim vs. cold hard reality) and the latter being a frequent client-turned-friend since she started hiring him to design promotional images for her store. Last but not least was Akiko Kawanabe. Although Yusuke had declined the older gentleman’s patronage in the past, there was a business side to the art world that Yusuke had trouble navigating, and so he inevitably did start working with him. Kawanabe proved to be a very kind friend and mentor, giving Yusuke his space and never trying to force his creative direction, but also providing him guidance in trying to get his art out to as many people as possible and to generally reach for new heights, refusing to let Yusuke get complacent with his current ability level.

A big screen TV was set up in the cafe. Usually it wasn’t on display, but Haru brought it for special events like movie nights. She and Sojiro handed out coffee as the feature on the news came on, all the chatter in the room dying down. As expected, they covered Yusuke’s history with Madarame. Yusuke understood why they brought it up, but he still found it a bit droll. Such feelings were quickly replaced with pride when Madarame’s downfall at the hands of the Phantom Thieves was mentioned. There was less talk of the Phantom Thieves all the time, so it was nice whenever they were remembered. The focus was on Yusuke’s most recent work, but some earlier pieces like _Hope and Desire_ were also on display. All in all, the feature lasted about ten minutes, ending with a short interview with Yusuke himself.

_“I suppose the greater meaning of my ‘Okinawa Collection’, if I were to ascribe one, is the classic struggle between want and need”_ the Yusuke on the TV said. _“I set out to observe the sea, to create the ultimate work that would capture its grandeur perfectly. I wanted to learn what draws men to it, why it is the focus of so many of our fantasies. I never quite found what I was searching for, but I did find myself inspired to create many other works in the meantime. And I certainly did not think of them as being without value, but the fact that they were not THE grand work I had wished to create made them lesser in my own mind. It was only upon my return home when my friends found splendor in them that I no longer minded my failure to capture the sea. The side projects I’d considered diversions were meaningful and inspiring to others, so I could hardly consider the past year a waste. I believe that there are some who perceive us artists as solitary creatures living in a vacuum, our works bursting forth from us and filling the world like the creation of the universe itself. In truth, we require community as much as anybody. We cannot create in a vacuum, for there would be nothing to inspire us. I have had to be reminded time and again that I am not alone in this world, and I have grown as an artist and a person for it. If there is one thing I would like people to take away from this gallery as a whole, it is that the things for which we strive the most will not necessarily give our existence validation. I suppose it’s not a particularly novel thought, but I do believe it is one worth repeating.”_

With the conclusion of the news segment, everyone in the cafe stood and applauded Yusuke.

“Way to go, Yusuke!” Ann was the first to speak.

“Yeah Inari,” Futaba said sarcastically, “those are some sweet hackneyed platitudes you said up there.”

Ren nudged Futaba with his elbow.

“What?” Futaba crossed her arms. “I thought artists were supposed to be original!”

“Would you drop it for one night?” Ren asked.

“Let her be, Ren.” Yusuke looked at Futaba condescendingly. “Not even Futaba’s complete lack of civility and refinement could ruin this evening for me.”

“Hey!” Futaba started stomping towards Yusuke. “What did you just call me, you-“

“Dude!” In his job, Ryuji had unexpectedly picked up on the art of being tactful, and smoothly inserted himself between Futaba and Yusuke in a way that made him look like his normal boorish self and not as if he was trying to stop the tiny redhead from climbing Yusuke like a tree and plucking his eyes out like coconuts. He got uncomfortably close to Yusuke’s face, yelling like normal. “You’re totally a big shot now! No more of that starvin’ artist crap for you! You’re gonna be rollin’ in it!”

“Indeed, it seems that I am experiencing a windfall of sorts.” There was a very dull excitement hidden in Yusuke’s eyes. “Just thinking about it sparks my imagination. I’ll be able to get a larger studio, do more ambitious works on bigger canvases, perhaps even invest in new and exciting hues of paint! Are you aware of the recent trend of artists trying to make paint that the strongest, most vibrant color of its kind? Even computers cannot process it! I would love to see ‘the reddest red’ with my own two eyes. I am certain that it is-“

“Uh-huh…” Sojiro tilted his head down, glaring at Yusuke over his glasses. “And what about food?”

“This is no time to be thinking of such basic creature comforts!” Yusuke threw out his arms dramatically, almost hitting Ryuji in the face. “This is only the beginning for me! I finally have the resources I need to take my art to the next level and-“

“Live a healthy lifestyle” Takemi said firmly. She marched up to Yusuke and poked him in his bony chest. “You’re not poor anymore, so you don’t need to live on scraps. And you don’t get to mooch off your friends anymore either. Do yourself a favor and properly stock your fridge. The art world will forgive you if you’re a few yen short of painting the prettiest rainbow.”

“And what would you know of it!?" Yusuke crossed his arms and pouted. “The worlds of art and science are completely different animals.”

“Listen to your doctor, Yusuke-Kun” Kawanabe said. “While I’m certain the value of your paintings would rise greatly if you perished from malnourishment, I’d prefer to see more pieces from you in the future rather than more money from the pieces you’ve already made.”

“I… Of course, Kawanabe-San.” Yusuke lowered his head to Takemi. “My apologies, Doctor. I suppose old habits die hard.”

The rest of the evening proved lively, as was often the case with the Phantom Thieves. Adulthood had done nothing to temper their spirits, which meant there was plenty of laughter, embarrassment, and arguing to go around. As the evening got late, people started to trickle out of the cafe one by one, the last few stragglers being forced out by Haru when she decided she needed to get some sleep before opening up for real business the next day.

* * *

Yusuke spent most of his time in his studio, but made it a point to visit the gallery at least once a day to see how people were reacting to his art. He would show up at scattered times, never sticking around for long, but one person in particular caught his eye. About a week after the news story aired, Yusuke took note of one older fellow. The man was probably in his late 50s, and looked to be about Yusuke’s height, or that he would be if he wasn’t slightly hunched over. He usually had his hands clasped behind his back. He was mostly bald save for a small rim of hair on the back and sides of his head, and he primarily wore sweater-vests. Yusuke wouldn’t normally take interest in somebody like this over other visitors, but he found himself intrigued by the man’s choice of corrective eyewear: Pince-nez with a silver chain leading all the way down to the bottom button of his vest. Not exactly the most common accessory in the modern age. Every day, no matter what time Yusuke came to the gallery, he’d notice the man staring at his paintings with great interest. After a week of this, Yusuke pulled aside one of the security guards.

“Pardon me, but who is that gentleman?”

“Who, the geezer?” The security guard shrugged. “He’s been in here all day every day. We thought he might be canvassing the place for a theft or something at first, but he hasn’t been causing any trouble, so he’s probably just a big fan.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

“I mean, I’m no expert or anything, but some of these art buffs can stand in front of one painting for hours at a time. That old guy must be holding the world record, though.”

“I see.” Yusuke adjusted his monocle, which was starting to slip out of place. “Thank you.”

Yusuke walked over to the old man, who was currently analyzing a painting of a lone seagull flying towards the viewer.

“Are you enjoying the gallery?” Yusuke asked.

“Hm?” The old man looked at Yusuke and stared at him for a moment, his expression blank. Very slowly, a smile formed on his face. “Ah, the artist himself.” The man’s voice was deep and craggy. He had clearly been a smoker at some point. Still was, possibly. His speech was slow and methodical, but not so much that it felt like he was droning on. He looked back to the painting. “Yes, Kitagawa-San. I am finding your works quite captivating indeed.”

“I am glad to hear it” Yusuke said. He turned to the painting. “From what I’ve seen, most visitors tend to overlook this particular work. It seems they do not find a lone seagull particularly compelling. May I ask what about it has captured your interest?”

“Oh, there are a few things.” The man’s brow furrowed, and Yusuke noticed just how bushy his eyebrows were. “For one, it defies expectation. I believe seagulls are not indigenous to Okinawa, correct?”

“You are not wrong.” Yusuke put his hands in his pockets and relaxed his posture, content to behold his own work with this stranger next to him. “Though they are known to visit its beaches for short periods of time. I found that fascinating, considering how common they are in other coastal areas.”

“I can tell.” The old man gave a small, throaty chuckle. “I’ve heard a couple other visitors say they felt like this bird was coming forward to attack them, but that’s not the feeling I get at all. I believe were the seagull and I to play ‘chicken’, as it were, it would fly around me. It doesn’t seem to be interested in my presence at all. It feels as if the seagull’s path will take it out of my line of sight. It’s as if this work is meant to remind me that the world exists beyond what I am experiencing, and that life goes on just out of my field of vision.”

“Remarkable…” Yusuke stared at the man in surprise. That was indeed the feeling he meant to convey when he painted the seagull. “Are you an art critic, sir?”

“My name is Ryoichi Eguchi, Kitagawa-San.” Eguchi turned to Yusuke and bowed slightly. “And no, I am not an art critic. I am simply an enthusiast.”

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet an enthusiast as insightful as yourself, Eguchi-San.” Yusuke returned the bow.

“You flatter me, Kitagawa-San. But you are the true talent here.” Eguchi looked back at the painting, raising one thick eyebrow. “I hope it would not be rude of me to ask about Ichiryusai Madarame.”

“I have long stopped letting that man’s name be painful to me” Yusuke said. “What do you wish to ask?”

“Given all that the man has put you through, do you still on any level consider him a teacher of yours?”

“I have not thought of Madarame as my sensei in many years” Yusuke said. “Why?"

“Well, I do see some similarities to his technique is these brushstrokes” Eguchi said.

“If there is any similarity, it simply means that I have drawn inspiration from one of the many artists he stole from.” Yusuke spoke calmly for the most part, but his anger came out through the way his body stiffened up. It seemed he was not quite as dull to this subject as he liked to believe.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Eguchi shook his head. “Ichiryusai was not completely without talent. He would not have been able to successfully forge so many copies of the Sayuri otherwise. There is a certain manner to your brush strokes that remind me of the days before he stopped making his own art, back when he was a more honest man.”

“You speak as if you knew him.”

“I did.” Eguchi kept staring at the painting. A smile appeared on his lips, but there was some sadness in his eyes. “Of course, whatever foundation Ichiryusai may have presented you with, I would say your technique shares far more in common with Setsuko’s.”

“‘Setsuko’?” Yusuke’s barely-concealed anger was replaced with very pronounced shock. “You knew my mother?”

“Oh, yes. I knew Setsuko Kitagawa quite well.” Eguchi turned away from the painting, staring directly at Yusuke.

“Who are you, Eguchi-San?” Yusuke stared blankly at the old man before him. He wasn’t sure what to express, because he wasn’t sure what to feel. There was something very peculiar about this situation. “Were you a pupil of Madarame’s? Or a friend of his perhaps?”

“Not exactly. I am… Well…” Eguchi sighed, his thin lips forming a straight line, drawn taut by his bunched-up cheeks. He seemed nervous.

“Eguchi-San? Is something wrong?”

“I’ll just come out and say it. I am not one hundred percent certain of this, but…” Eguchi cleared his throat and looked Yusuke dead in the eye. “Yusuke Kitagawa, I believe that you are my son.”


	2. Family History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yusuke learns the story of Eguchi and his mother.

Ordinarily, sitting down in a cafe that was neither LeBlanc nor Cafe Noir would feel like high treason. But given the delicate nature of this situation, Yusuke was willing to make an exception just this once.

The man sitting across from him, Ryoichi Eguchi, was claiming to be Yusuke’s biological father. Or rather, he strongly suspected that he was. For all Yusuke knew, this man could be a charlatan, but given how little he knew about his true lineage, he figured it was worth exploring at least. Still, he wasn’t going to explore this possibility in the middle of his exhibit, so he and Eguchi were now seated at a table in some cafe Yusuke wasn’t going to bother learning the name of so they could discuss the matter on emotionally-neutral ground.

“So,” Eguchi asked, “where would you like me to begin?”

“I suppose most would like you to start at the beginning, to prove that you’re my father.” Yusuke dipped a biscotti in his coffee. He thought of Haru, who introduced him to the practice. “But if I have learned one thing over the years, it is that not all biological parents are worth having a relationship with. If you truly are my father, why have you only appeared before me now? Why not sooner?” He punctuated his remark by biting into the softened cookie.

“Well, I only just learned of you.” Eguchi took a sip of his own coffee. “Of course, plugged in to the art world as I am, I had heard the name ‘Yusuke Kitagawa’ once or twice in recent years, but I believed it to be a coincidence. It was only when I saw you on the news and learned of the Madarame connection that I saw the bigger picture.” Eguchi smiled at Yusuke wistfully. “Of course, now that I see you up close, it’s even more evident. You have your mother’s chin.”

“Do I?” Yusuke ran his finger along the contour of his jaw. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“My mother passed away when I was only three” Yusuke said sadly. “Madarame did not have any photos of her.”

“Yes, well, I suspect Ichiryusai wouldn’t have wanted you remembering what she looked like.” Eguchi pulled out his wallet and started rifling through it. “I imagine it would have made you wise to his most profitable scheme.” Eguchi retrieved an old, beat-up, folded-up photograph and handed it to Yusuke.

“What do you-“

Yusuke’s words were cut off as his eyes drifted down to the photograph. It contained two people. The first was obviously Eguchi, who looked to be at least 25 years younger. The colors were faded, but he had a full head of brown hair and a mustache, and even back then wore pince-nez glasses. His arm was around the shoulder of a woman who looked almost exactly like the Sayuri. She was young, possibly even younger in this photo than Yusuke was now, and she had long hair the same color as Yusuke’s, tied in a long, thin ponytail like the woman in the painting he’d seen a thousand times. And, as Eguchi noted, her chin narrowed down to the same sharp point as Yusuke’s own. Yusuke did not experience any flashbacks. He was simply too young to have any real memories of his mother before her death. But looking at this photograph, there was no doubt in his mind: This was Setsuko Kitagawa.

Yusuke had spent so many days sitting in LeBlanc, staring at that painting his mother made. He’d wonder how the visage of the woman rendered in paint would translate into a real life human being. He must have imagined a thousand permutations of this face, all very close to the image before him now, but none quite hitting the mark. Tears silently streamed down the sides of Yusuke’s face as he took in the picture.

“Are you alright, son?” Eguchi’s eyes were drawn to the trails of moisture on Yusuke’s cheeks.

“Yes.” Yusuke removed his monocle as he wiped his face dry, then put it back on. “I never believed I would get to see my mother’s true face.” He looked up at the older man across from him. “I hate to ask this, as from the condition I am certain it is your only copy, but-“

“Of course you can keep it” Eguchi said warmly. “I’ve had the pleasure of being able to see Setsuko’s face whenever I want for a quarter of a century. I believe it is your turn.”

“Thank you.” Yusuke’s focus shifted back and forth between the younger Eguchi with his arm around Setsuko and the older Eguchi before him in the cafe. “What was she like?”

“A difficult question to answer.” Eguchi chuckled. “I’m not sure if there are enough words to capture the enormity of Setsuko’s splendor. But, if I had to pick a few…” Eguchi paused to take a sip of his coffee. “She was warm. Loving. Full of passion. Not in the best health, but she never let her physical limits put a damper on her spirit. She was imaginative and saw the beauty in everything, and she cared so much for others. She saw someone in need and would want to give them the world, though sadly, she was never quite in any position to give anybody anything. And so her art would be her gift to the world.”

_“A feeling I know all too well”_ Yusuke thought.

“You are twenty-four years old, correct?”

“Yes, as of last month.”

“I thought so. The timing lines up perfectly.” Eguchi sighed. “I was last with Setsuko about twenty-five years ago. I suppose it is possible she could have had another lover shortly after I left, but it seems unlikely.”

“I see…” Yusuke stared at the photo again, then back up at Eguchi, this time with a more scrutinizing eye. “Well, I can see why you would believe me to be your son, but there is one rather large hole in your story.”

“Is there?” Eguchi crossed his arms. “Well, as I said before, I am not completely certain that we are in fact father and son, Kitagawa-San, but I have a very strong feeling that it is the case. Still, I would like to hear any scruples you find with my theory.”

“Shortly before Madarame confessed his sins to the rest of the world, he told me in great detail the story of how he let my mother die.”

“Oh yes, I’ve been meaning to ask about that.” Eguchi’s face became full of sadness. “It was one of her seizures, wasn't it?”

“It was!” Yusuke’s eyes widened. He knew his mother died of a seizure, but he didn’t realize it was a regular occurrence for her. “Madarame watched as it happened and chose to wait until it was too late to call for help, but-“

“That terrible man!” Eguchi looked down at the floor, a pained blend of loss and fury on his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he exhaled, he looked back up at Yusuke, his expression calm. “My apologies. It was not my intention to make a scene.”

“It is completely understandable. I’m certain you can imagine how incensed I was when I learned the truth.” It was clear that some of that anger was still inside of Yusuke. He took another bite of his biscotti to take the edge off, the sugar banishing some of that reawakened hate slightly. “However, in his recounting of the story, Madarame informed me that my mother’s husband had died before my birth.”

“Ah, of course.” Eguchi nodded knowingly. “Your mother did have a husband, but he had already passed shortly before I met her. She told me all about him. As I recall, his full name was ‘Takuma Kitagawa’. Takuma and Setsuko were high school sweethearts who married the moment they graduated, running away to the big city from their disapproving parents. Their marriage lasted for two short years before Takuma was killed by a drunk driver. It was around that time that your mother fell into Ichiryusai’s grasp. And of course, that is when I met her as well.”

“You keep referring to Madarame by his first name.” Yusuke’s anger seemed to have fully dissipated now. “Were you two close?”

“We were friendly, but it was a business relationship more than anything else, I suppose.” Eguchi sat up straight, his expression dignified. “At the time, I was an art broker by trade. I would act as a medium between Ichiryusai and potential buyers, convincing them to pay higher prices and taking a cut for myself. Of course, I did not know the insidious nature of Ichiryusai’s side of the business, or I never would have worked with him.”

“I do not doubt it. Madarame had a great many people fooled. Even other artists and seasoned critics who should have known that no one man could possibly have made all those varying works were deceived.”

“We all wanted to buy into the myth of the miracle artist.” Eguchi sighed. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I just like all the others was so in love with the concept of the man that I let it skew my perception of the art itself. That said, once I met Setsuko, I began to uncover the truth.”

“How did you meet, exactly?”

“Ichiryusai had her serve me tea one evening when I visited his shack to purvey ‘his’ newest works.” Eguchi smiled, his eyes trailing away from Yusuke, clearly following his thoughts into the past. “I immediately found myself charmed. Her beauty and kindness were unlike anything I had ever experienced before. We would have the most wonderful discussions every time I came by the shack, and eventually we started meeting in public. And then, one night, after a few months of dating, we-“ Eguchi cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed. “Well, I will spare you the details, but obviously we would have to have engaged in a certain activity for me to believe that I am your father.”

“You do not have to worry about offending me by saying you had sex with my mother, Eguchi-San.” Yusuke chuckled as he remembered Ryuji laying Ren out in response to a joke about Ryuji’s mother once. It was perhaps the only time that their entire friend group had unilaterally sided with Ryuji over one of his outbursts, even Morgana. “Perhaps it is simply because I did not truly know her, but I am not squeamish over such factual statements.”

“Well, I am glad you can face such things with grace, Kitagawa-Kun.” Eguchi finished the last of his coffee. “Ichiryusai was livid when he discovered our affair, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Yes. He was a very... possessive man.”

“That’s one word for it, I suppose.” Sorrow and rage once again radiated from Eguchi. “He accused me of shamelessly taking advantage of a young widow. Said that I was trying to seduce her into an imbalanced business relationship where I would sell her works and keep most of the money for myself. He refused to do business with me and threatened to make my predatory acts known if I did not disengage myself from the arts community posthaste. And like a coward, I did as he commanded.”

“I don’t understand,” Yusuke said, “did you not love her?”

“Of course I did! But… I let Ichiryusai get in my head. I began to wonder, was he right? Setsuko was ten years my junior and still recovering from the loss of her first love. What kind of man pursued a woman in a situation like that? But if I had known that he was just trying to get rid of me, that she was pregnant, the things he was going to do to her…” Eguchi slammed his fist on the table. “I should have stayed! The name ‘Madarame’ didn’t have the power then that it would later! I should have gotten her out of there! If I had, maybe she wouldn’t have died! She could have lived a full and happy life! We all could have, all three of us!” Eguchi looked at Yusuke, his eyes puffed-up and watery. “We could have been a family.”

“Eguchi-San…” Yusuke took off his monocle and fiddled with it in his fingers, not looking at his mother’s old lover. “I must confess, there have been many times when I wondered what manner of person my real father was. I always assumed that he was no longer alive, and so I have tried to ignore such musings, believing I would never have an answer. But if what you say is true…”

“It is.” Eguchi gave Yusuke a determined smile. “I’m sure of it.”

“But how can you know?”

“A paternity test.” Eguchi stood up grinning. “I’m willing to undergo one if you are.”

* * *

Five days later, the men who might be father and son sat in the clinic in Yongen-Jaya, full of anxiety. Yusuke sat on the exam table, practically about to fall off the edge. Eguchi was completely rigid in a spare chair in the exam room, still as a statue. Dr. Takemi, dressed even now as if she were going to a nightclub, sat in her chair before them, holding a folder. She was uncharacteristically nervous, though compared to Yusuke and Eguchi, she seemed like a model of composure.

“As I'm sure you’ve both realized, I have the outcome of your paternity test right here” she said. “Ordinarily I’d just hand them to you and that would be the end of it, but-“

“What are the results, Dr. Takemi?” Yusuke’s heartbeat felt as intense to him as the drums of the thunder god Raijin.

“Well, Yusuke, they’re positive.” Takemi gestured to Eguchi. “The DNA markers match. Ryoichi Eguchi is indeed your biological father.”

“Are you certain!? Are you absolutely positive!?”

“That’s what the test says.”

Yusuke and Eguchi looked to each other, gargantuan smiles on their faces.

“I knew it!” Eguchi said. “From the moment I saw you on that TV screen, I knew it!”

“This is- I never thought-“ Yusuke started laughing. “I’m at a loss for words.”

“Yes, I’m certain this is a big moment for both of you, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin it, but…” Takemi let out an exasperated whine. Now that Yusuke had a weight lifted from his shoulders, he noticed just how on edge the doctor was. “There’s something else that came up in the DNA tests.”

“Oh dear." Eguchi’s mood went from elated to frightened in an instant. “You didn’t find some manner of genetic disease, did you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s-” Takemi sighed. “She was supposed to be here by now” she grumbled.

“‘She’?” Yusuke asked.

“You see, when the results came back, it turned out that-“ Dr. Takemi clammed up as she heard the front door of the clinic open in the other room. “One moment, please.” She got up and walked out into the waiting room.

Yusuke and Eguchi stared at the door intently as they heard Takemi’s muffled voice come from the other side. They couldn’t make out what she was saying. From the sound of things, there was another woman in the other room, much younger than Takemi herself. After a moment, Takemi walked back in, the door slightly ajar behind her. Yusuke and Eguchi could see somebody’s shadow on the sliver of waiting room floor they could make out, but not who it belonged to.

“Eguchi San,” Takemi said, “when the lab ran your blood through their systems, they found that in addition to Yusuke, your genetic markers matched another patient of mine who recently had some blood work done.”

“What are you saying?” Eguchi asked.

“I’m saying that you have another child. A daughter. I’ve asked her here today.”

“I have a sister!?” Yusuke jumped to his feet.

“Half-sister” Takemi said.

“Oh, what a joyous day! Where once I thought I had no true family left in the world, now I discover two blood relatives!” Yusuke threw his arms into the air dramatically, as if proclaiming his joy to the heavens.

“You’re going to want to sit back down, Yusuke.” Takemi poked her head outside the door. “Are you ready?”

Yusuke heard a familiar groan. Takemi opened the door and stepped to the side.

With a look of horror on her face, Futaba Sakura stepped into the exam room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not apologize.


	3. Enfant Terrible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Futaba takes the news as well as you'd expect.

“Eguchi-San, this is your daughter, Futaba Sakura.” Takemi stood next to Futaba and gestured to Eguchi and Yusuke. “Futaba, this is Ryoichi Eguchi, your biological father. And you already know your half-brother.”

There was silence in the room. Eguchi stared at Futaba in confusion. Yusuke and Futaba stared at each other with varying levels of revulsion and shock. Takemi was taking great pains not to look at anybody at the moment. She had been Yusuke and Futaba’s doctor long enough to know that this moment would not be a pleasant one.

“NO! UH-UH! NO WAY!” That Futaba was the one to break the silence did not come as a surprise to Takemi. Nor were her words of protest. “There is no way Inari is my brother! That’s just gross! I refuse to accept this retcon as canon!”

“This is a very distasteful joke, Dr. Takemi.” Yusuke glared at his physician. “Is this revenge for the time I used all your tongue depressors to recreate the Thinker?”

“When I get back at you for that, it won’t be here.” Takemi smirked. “You’d be expecting it.”

“I’m afraid there must be some mistake, doctor” Eguchi said. “There’s no possible way this young lady could be my daughter.”

“Indeed!” Yusuke stood up and walked over to Eguchi, putting his hand on his shoulder. “My father has only had one true love in his lifetime, and that is my mother! The very idea that he would betray that love by lying with another woman is nothing short of preposterous!”

“Well…” Eguchi tugged at his collar. “It may be a LITTLE short of preposterous.”

“What!?” Yusuke reared back, removing his hand from Eguchi’s shoulder. “But the way you spoke of her, I thought-“

“Son, please.” Eguchi rose from his chair to be eye level with Yusuke.”I have not truly loved a woman in twenty-five years. But a man has needs, and I have had many casual relationships with women who wanted the same. That said…” Eguchi looked at Futaba uncomfortably. “I have not had relations with any woman named ‘Sakura’. At least not long enough ago to result in this teenage girl.”

“I’m not a teenager!” Futaba yelled. “I’m twenty-one! And ‘Sakura’ is my adopted name! My birth name is ‘Isshiki’!”

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I-“ Eguchi’s eyes widened. He stared at Futaba, mostly focused on her glasses. “Your mother’s name isn’t ‘Wakaba’, is it?”

Futaba stiffened up, turned around, and walked out of the exam room. This was quickly followed by the sound of the clinic’s front door slamming, and then a very loud and prolonged shriek which reverberated through all of Yongen-Jaya.

“Is she ok?” Eguchi asked.

“No,” Yusuke said, “nor has she ever been in her entire life.”

“Your children don’t really get along” Takemi added.

“I see…” Eguchi was completely bewildered. While his reactions had not been as explosive, Yusuke could see he was taking this situation about as well as he and Futaba were.

Futaba walked back into the room. She grabbed Takemi’s desk chair and climbed into it, assuming her usual squat. She was backwards in the chair, letting its back serve as a barrier between her and the rest of the room. She pointed at Eguchi accusingly.

“Alright, out with it!”

“I beg your pardon?” Eguchi sat down, giving Futaba a confused stare all the while.

“Exposition!” Futaba’s finger remained pointed. “You knew my mom, right!? Origin story time!”

“Ah, of course.” Eguchi scratched his head. “I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell… ‘Futaba’, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then, Futaba-Chan.” Eguchi started tapping his foot. “Let me see… I met Wakaba Isshiki a little over twenty years ago. I had been turned down for a job as a professor of art history at some college and was looking for a solution to my problems at the bottom of a wine bottle.”

“I already hate the start of this story” Futaba said.

‘I must agree” Yusuke said. “It is hardly romantic.”

“Well, there was no romance to speak of” Eguchi said. “I had many casual affairs over the years, but that’s all they were. Casual. I don’t truly even recall most of them. Though I suppose that isn’t all that strange in itself.” Eguchi smiled, somehow both sheepish and prideful at the same time. “The truth is, I’ve had so many of these encounters that I could hardly be expected to remember all of them.”

“That’s only natural.” Takemi gave Eguchi a knowing nod.

“To think, my own progenitor, a libertine!” Yusuke stared at Eguchi with shock.

“Don’t look at me like that, son. It’s like I said, a man has needs.” Eguchi slumped over. “Especially a man who’s been denied the one true love of his life. With true passion off the table, I searched for any way to fill the void.”

“Uh-huh.” Takemi’s eyes glazed over with boredom. Clearly whatever sense of camaraderie she’d felt with Eguchi had passed. He was talking about things she couldn’t relate to now.

“I see…” Yusuke sighed. “Yes, I can only imagine what that sort of emptiness must feel like. My apologies, Father.”

“Yusuke!” Eguchi looked up at the young artist, beaming. “You called me ‘Father’!”

“Of course.” Yusuke smiled back. “Now that we have found each other, it’s only natural that-“

“HEY, JERKS!” Futaba was fuming, partially hidden behind the seat back. “You can have your moment later! We’re talking about me now!”

“Ah, yes!” Eguchi looked back to Futaba. “My apologies, my dear. Now, Wakaba-“

“That’s right!” Futaba pointed at Eguchi again. “You remember her! That must mean she was more than one of your flings, right!?”

“Well, not exactly. But meeting her was a remarkably unique experience.” Eguchi chuckled. “Even under the influence of drink, I would be hard-pressed to forget that encounter.”

“I’m not so sure I wanna hear this all of a sudden.” Futaba sunk further behind the chair’s back, only her eyes and the top of her head visible now.

“Oh, no! Not like that! Wakaba was different in that she was the one who approached me.”

“She did!?” Futaba raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like my mom. Sojiro tried and failed getting to maximum rank with her for years, and she actually liked him.”

“Well, I certainly did not know your mother well enough to comment on what kind of behavior would be out of character for her,” Eguchi said, “but I was sitting at a bar on my third glass of wine when this very sharp-looking woman came up to me and asked if I would be interested in an evening of intercourse.” Eguchi continued with some laughter in his voice. “She even said it exactly like that. ‘Pardon me, sir, but I believe you would make a suitable mate and I would like to engage in sexual intercourse with you.’”

“How clinical.” Takemi grabbed a notepad and pen and began writing. “I should try that one sometime.”

“Yes, ‘clinical’ would be just the word to describe the whole affair.” Eguchi crossed his arms and closed his eyes as he recalled the past. “Which is not to say that it was unenjoyable, but to call it a ‘night of passion' would be completely inaccurate. Still, the evening was not without its surprises. I couldn’t believe that Wakaba wanted to go without protec-“

“STOP!” Futaba covered her ears. “Skip cutscene! Go to the next part!”

“Oh, yes…” Eguchi opened his eyes, looking embarrassed. “I suppose most people would not be eager to hear about that part of their conception.” Eguchi cleared his throat. “The next morning, I woke up to Wakaba already headed out the motel room door. I wasn’t exactly feeling attached to her, but I thought I’d offer to treat her to breakfast out of courtesy. She declined, telling me that if all went well, she’d have gotten what she wanted soon enough. And then she left the room before I could ask for clarification.” Eguchi looked at Futaba with a knowing smirk. “I always wondered what she meant by that, and now I finally know. It seems that your mother used me as a means so she could have you, Futaba-Chan.”

“Oh.”

What happened next was a total rarity to Yusuke. Futaba shifted her body around until she was actually sitting in the chair normally, then slumped back into it. She turned to face everybody, looking exhausted for some reason.

“So… What do we do now?”

“I’m not sure” Eguchi said. “I’m here because I recently learned I may have one child. Now I’m finding out that I had two, and with two different mothers, no less. It’s somewhat overwhelming.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Perhaps we would be best suited to continue this discussion at LeBlanc” Yusuke said. “I believe a change of environment would be good for us all right now.”

“What, you can’t bond as a family in the sterility of a back-alley medical clinic?” Takemi picked up her clipboard from her desk. “Anyway, if you’re all leaving, there’s just one more thing I need to discuss with you.”

“What is it, doctor?” Eguchi asked.

“Which one of you should I send the bill?”

* * *

Futaba couldn’t remember the last time she felt so anxious when walking into LeBlanc. Sojiro picked up on his daughter’s emotional turmoil immediately, and it didn’t take much brain power for him to realize it was related to Yusuke and the stranger that entered the cafe with her.

“Hey Futaba. Hey Yusuke.” Sojiro tried to be as friendly with his greeting as possible. The fact that Futaba and Yusuke were together without at least one of their mutual friends meant something serious must be going on. “Who’s this?”

“Boss, I’m so glad you’re here!” Yusuke’s spirit returned to him as the familiar smell of coffee and curry hit his nostrils.

“This is my cafe" Sojiro said. “I’m always here.”

“Be that as it may, I would like for you to be the first to meet Ryoichi Eguchi, my biological father!”

“Your dad?” Sojiro’s eyes widened. “I thought your dad was dead.”

“One of many of Madarame’s deceptions” Yusuke said.

“There’s more” Futaba said. “Dr. Takemi called me to her office after these two got a blood test. He’s my birthfather too.”

“WHAT!?” Sojiro glared at Eguchi. “So this guy and Wakaba-“

“Were in each other’s lives for a brief moment in time” Eguchi said sternly. “And until today I had no reason to expect that I would ever so much as hear her name again.”

“So, what?” Sojiro scratched the back of his head. “Wakaba never told you that she had your child? That she was pregnant?”

“The only thing she ever told me was her name.” Eguchi softened his tone a bit. “I take it you two were close?”

“This is Sojiro” Futaba said. “I’ve known him as long as I can remember. He was really good friends with my mom, and after she died, he took me in and raised me.” Futaba looked at Eguchi spitefully. “HE’S my dad.”

“You are a grown woman, Futaba-Chan. I did not come here to take you away from your family.” Eguchi sat down on a stool and sighed. “As I stated in the doctor’s office earlier, I did not even believe that I had any children beyond Yusuke.”

“Wait…” Sojiro’s eyes swept back and forth between Yusuke and Futaba. He pointed to Yusuke. “If he’s your dad…” Sojiro’s finger trailed over to Futaba. “And if he’s YOUR dad, then doesn’t that make you two-“

“Don’t say it!” Futaba stomped her foot on the ground. “It’s too gross to think about!”

“Futaba, please!” Yusuke crossed his arms. “You and I have just learned that we have not just one, but two living flesh-and-blood relatives! I know our newfound connection is unexpected, but can you not see the joy in it?”

“I already have blood relatives, Inari!” Futaba’s face turned red. “They blamed me for my mom’s death, locked me in a dirty room, and let me starve! I finally got over it thanks to a dad and brother who actually love me! I don’t need this total stranger walking into my life and making things worse all over again!”

“Whoa there!” Sojiro reached over the counter to put his hand on Futaba’s shoulder. It had been a couple years since they discussed Wakaba’s brother or any of her other family. Once Sae helped them sue Futaba’s extended family for the inheritance they had wrongfully extorted from Sojiro so he could take her into a loving home, everybody had agreed to put the matter to bed for good. “Futaba, I’m rattled by this too, but don’t you think you’re being unfair here? We don’t even know what kind of person this guy is yet.”

“Exactly!” Futaba’s face had returned to its normal color, but she seemed no less upset. She broke away from Sojiro. “He got with my mom in a drunken one-night stand! Why should I act like he’s anything special? My mom didn’t mean anything to him!”

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Yusuke bellowed. Futaba clammed up instantly, and even Sojiro found himself jumping at the unexpected sound. They’d never heard Yusuke so angry or loud before. They didn’t even think he had the lung power to make that kind of noise, given his poor dietary habits. “He is our father and you will not disrespect him like-“

“It’s fine, Yusuke.” Eguchi looked at Futaba sorrowfully. “You’re right, Futaba-Chan. Wakaba Isshiki was not special to me. Not like Yusuke’s mother was. And if I am being fully honest, I doubt that if I learned of your existence before meeting you that I would have approached you with the same enthusiasm that I did Yusuke. But you ARE my daughter, and I am here now, and I would very much like to get to know you. But if you think that you would be better off without me in your life, I will respect that wish.”

“Glad we understand each other.” Futaba sat on the stool furthest away from Eguchi and turned her back to him.

“I don’t understand it” Yusuke said.

“You don’t have to” Futaba replied. “This isn’t about you.”

“You cannot exclude me from this!” Yusuke slowly approached Futaba. “Even if you don’t wish to have a relationship with our father, I do! And we were already part of each other’s lives before we learned we were blood-related, and although you are needlessly hostile to me in many of our interactions, I’d rather it stay that way. But I cannot have both you and Father in my life without some intersection between you two on occasion, so I’d rather you could at least be civil to him.” Yusuke sat down in the stool next to Futaba. “Would you at least give him a chance?”

Futaba groaned wordlessly. From the sound of things, it seemed like she was willing to listen to Yusuke, although she was far from happy about it. She looked over the counter to the man she considered her real father.

“What do you think I should do, Sojiro?”

“I can’t make that decision for you.” Sojiro frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you getting all chummy with your birthfather, but I don’t know if it’s out of actual concern or if I just don’t like the idea of sharing the title of ‘dad’ with someone else. Only you can know if this is good for you, Futaba.”

“I could go, if you’d like.” Eguchi stood up. “This has been an eventful afternoon for all of us. I’m certain it will be easier for you to come to a decision without me present.”

“You’re leaving already, Father?” Yusuke asked.

“We will have many opportunities to spend more time together. I’ll come by your gallery tomorrow.” Eguchi smiled at Yusuke and headed towards the door. “In the meantime, I believe you may wish to talk things out with your sist-“ Eguchi stopped right before the door, turning around to look at the painting on the wall. “Ah. Sayuri.”

“That’s right” Sojiro said. “It’s a great piece. I’m more of a ‘Dogs Playing Poker’ man myself, but Sayuri fits the classier atmosphere I’m going for here.”

“Ah…” Eguchi turned to Yusuke, a troubled look on his face. “I must confess, son, I’m surprised that you would frequent an establishment that so brazenly displays one of Ichiryusai’s forgeries of your mother’s work.”

“I gave it to Boss as an act of thanks” Yusuke said. “He has been very kind to me since Madarame’s arrest. And it is not a forgery.” Yusuke smiled at the painting. “That’s is my mother’s original work. It is the true Sayuri.”

“What!?” Eguchi looked at the painting in shock. “But I thought Ichiryusai destroyed the original!”

“Well, I came to acquire that painting when-“

“When Madarame was arrested” Futaba said, jabbing Yusuke in the side just hard enough to keep him from blabbing about the Phantom Thieves, but not enough to make him vocalize any sort of pain. “The one he claimed was stolen was his first copy. He kept the original around and the police found it in his workshop after he turned himself in. They gave it to Yusuke since it was his mom’s, and Yusuke let my dad keep it here because he had nowhere to put it at the time.”

“Fascinating…” Eguchi looked upon the painting again with a small amount of mirth in his gaze. He opened the cafe’s front door, looked back, and waved. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Yusuke.”

“Farewell, Father!” Yusuke waved to Eguchi enthusiastically as the door closed. He remained at the counter, pure bliss on his face. Next to him, Futaba was uneasy and contemplative. Sojiro decided to break the silence by pouring some coffee.

“Big day for you two, huh?”

“I should say so.” Yusuke bowed his head in thanks as he accepted his coffee. Futaba took a sip of hers before saying anything.

“I’m totally overwhelmed” she finally said. “I wish Dr. Takemi had told me what was going on before I came to her office. But I don’t really think knowing ahead of time could have prepared me for it.”

“I was similarly taken aback when I first spoke to him” Yusuke said. “In retrospect, I suppose I was harsh on you earlier, Futaba. I was so used to the idea of Eguchi-San being my father that I failed to consider how you would take the sudden revelation. I apologize.”

“It’s fine, Inari. You were stoked to meet your real dad, and I totally freaked like I always do when meeting new people. I was just thinking about how this was affecting me.” Futaba started fiddling with a strand of her hair. “Still, it’s kinda hard to believe that we’re that guy’s kids. He doesn’t really look anything like either one of us.”

“Indeed. We both take after our mothers, it seems. I suppose Father is mostly full of recessive genes.”

“I just always figured that my dad was like, a highlander or something.”

“A what now?” Sojiro asked.

“You know, like he’d be part Scottish or something else like that. I do look a lot like my mom, but she didn’t have orange hair, and it’s not really something you usually find among Japanese people.”

“Hm…” Yusuke reached into his pocket and took out the photo Eguchi gave him. He stared at the dilapidated image of his father in his younger years. “Well, I suppose that were this photo not ravaged by time, the shade of brown his hair appears to be in this image may appear a more vibrant orange color.”

“Let me see that!” Futaba grabbed the photo and stared at it intensely. “Is this your mom? She looks just like the painting!”

“Indeed she does” Yusuke said proudly.

“Yeah, I guess I could see this being orange…” Futaba looked at Yusuke. “If you want, I could scan this into my computer. Maybe use some image editing software to digitally touch it up and try and make this photo look more like it was when it was first taken.”

“Why would I want that?”

“Well, it’s like, wouldn’t it be nice to have a clearer image of what your mom looked like? One with better colors and without a bunch of wrinkles all over it?”

“That would be magnificent!” Yusuke beamed at Futaba. “Would you truly do it?”

“Yeah.” Futaba gave Yusuke an awkward smile. “Just consider it a favor from your… _sister_.” Futaba had to choke out the last word, but Yusuke was touched by the sentiment all the same.

“I would be eternally grateful, Futaba.”

“Yeah. You would.” Futaba chugged down the rest of her coffee and hopped out of her stool. “Sojiro! I’m going home now!”

“You don’t have to yell,” Sojiro said, “I’m standing right here.”

Futaba walked out of the cafe, staring at the photo the whole time. As she made the short trip back to her house, one thought played on loop in her head.

_“This is photoshopped.”_


	4. Sins of the "Father"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out.

Mishima sat at his desk at work, clicking away on his laptop. He was putting the final touches on a commercial for Diet Dr. Salt when he got a notification on his instant messenger.

> **Oracle:** Hey, I need your help with something.

Well, that was certainly a twist. Usually Mishima was the one who had to initiate contact with Futaba. She almost never started a conversation with him. 

> **Phancypants:** What’s up, Futaba?
> 
> **Oracle:** You’re one of those perverts who obsesses over cosplay girls and stuff, right? 
> 
> **Phancypants:** I wouldn’t put it like that… (-_-)
> 
> **Oracle:** So that’s a yes?  ╰ ( ▔∀▔ ) ╯
> 
> **Phancypants:** I’m familiar with the scene.
> 
> **Oracle:** Great. Do you recognize this girl? The original photo is too messed up for me to do a reverse image search. ( ； ⌣ ̀ _ ⌣ ́ )

Futaba uploaded a file titled “mamainari.png”. Mishima opened it to see what looked like a digitally resaturated young woman with long blue hair in an old, beat-up photograph. 

> **Phancypants:** Hmm… I think… Is that Mona-Chan?
> 
> **Oracle:** Crap, did I send a picture of Morgana by accident? ( ＃￣ ω ￣ )
> 
> **Phancypants:** No! That’s Mona Lisa from Pinstagram! Her fans call her “Mona-Chan”!
> 
> **Oracle:** Oh.
> 
> **Oracle:** HOLY CRAP!  ＼ ( 〇 _ ｏ ) ／
> 
> **Phancypants:** What is it!?  〣 ( ºΔº ) 〣
> 
> **Oracle:** I just looked her up. This is exactly what I was looking for! Thanks, Mishima! (o_ _) ﾉ彡☆
> 
> **Phancypants:** If you’re really thankful, you could go out to dinner with me sometime. ( ◕ ‿ ◕ )
> 
> **Oracle:** Gross. ( ﾒ `  ﾛ ´) Don’t make me sic Ren on you.
> 
> **Phancypants:** (x_x) ⌒☆

* * *

“So it’s not some kind of artistic statement?”

Yusuke was talking to a Kosei High first year who’d come to his gallery. The girl was about ten years his junior, and yet somehow just seeing the uniform made him feel like it was only yesterday that he had first set foot into those prestigious halls of artistic learning. By all metrics, Yusuke was an adult now, but it seemed like such an arbitrary label to him. Still, he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy the adulation of his alma mater’s current students.

“No, it is simply economic” Yusuke replied. “Only one of my eyes has deteriorated to the point where I need corrective vision, so why pay for a full pair of glasses when a monocle will do?”

“I see!” The girl looked up at Yusuke as if he had just revealed some kind of ancient wisdom. “So when your other eye starts to match, you’ll switch to glasses then?

“Hmm…” Yusuke touched his chin in thought. “No, I believe I shall acquire a second monocle. After all, if I switched to glasses, I’d have to throw away a perfectly good monocle.” Yusuke looked down at the teenage girl with grave seriousness. “An artist must never be wasteful, Abe-Chan. It is one of the worst sins you can commit in this world.”

“I see!” The girl bowed to Yusuke. “Thank you for your advice, Kitagawa-Sama! I must return to my dorm room at once! I put some empty tubes that I may have been able to squeeze a little more paint out of in the trash can, and I must retrieve them before my roommate throws them out!”

The student dashed out of the gallery. As she left, Eguchi approached Yusuke, laughing.

“It seems you’re making an impression on the next generation of artists” he said.

“The importance of resource conservation was something I had to learn very quickly” Yusuke said. “I am happy for young artists who do not have to choose between eating and their craft, but I still believe my struggles have imparted on me a valuable life lesson that everyone could stand to learn.”

“If you say so.” Eguchi looked around the room. There were a fair amount of visitors to the gallery. “You've really done some fine work, son. I just wish there were even more on display here.”

“There is one other painting I did in Okinawa not in this gallery.”

“Really now? And what would that be?”

“A field of flowers. I made it for a friend to celebrate her opening her own cafe.”

“Is that so?” Eguchi chuckled. “You know an awful lot of cafe owners, don’t you?”

“Just the two. We could go to Cafe Noir, if you’d like. I’m sure you must be tired of this gallery after all the time you've spent here.”

“That sounds lovely, but there’s something I’d like to discuss with you here.” Eguchi’s expression turned serious.

“What is it?”

“I think this gallery could use one more painting.”

“You think I should ask Haru to borrow the flowers I painted her?” Yusuke’s eyes trailed off to the side. “It sounds a bit tactless, but I suppose she wouldn’t mind if I displayed it for the duration of the exhibit. I could even make it up to her by adding ‘on loan from Cafe Noir’ on the display card next to the work for promotional purposes.”

“Let your friend keep her gift, Yusuke.” Eguchi leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. “I was talking about the Sayuri.”

“What!?” Not wanting to yell, Yusuke gave an intense whisper that was almost more breath than sound.

“Listen, son. I know it’s distasteful, but the art world is a business that revolves around sensationalism.” Eguchi shook his head sadly. “Your story has gotten people interested in your work — and it IS good work — but that will wear off eventually. You need some kind of angle if you want to keep people invested, and I think featuring mother and son’s work together would be just the thing to do it.”

“Kawanabe-San says that such pageantry is unneeded” Yusuke replied. “He believes that my work will stand on its own.”

“Kawanabe, huh?” Eguchi smirked. “Yes, that sounds like him.”

“You know Kawanabe-San?”

“I knew him back in my days as an art dealer. He’s a nice fellow, and his heart’s in the right place, but he’s always been just the slightest bit naïve about the reality of the business. Look, Yusuke…” Eguchi looked at Yusuke grimly. “I’m not trying to disrespect your work or turn you into a spectacle. But I know a few things about succeeding in this industry, and I missed out on your entire life. I know it’s too late to raise you like a proper father would, but I want to do what I can to help you now.”

“I appreciate that, truly." Yusuke’s brow furrowed as he contemplated what Eguchi said. “But it feels wrong exploiting Mother’s work for my own gain like that.”

“Yusuke, you wound me!” Seguchi looked Yusuke straight in the eye. “I want to do this for both you and Setsuko! Your mother had so much promise. She could have made quite the name for herself in the art world were it not for Ichiryusai’s treachery. Instead, her greatest work has become associated with deceit and tragedy.” Eguchi clenched his fist. “I want to rewrite the story. Her story, your story, our family’s story! I want the world to celebrate Setsuko’s talent and how her legacy continues in you!”

“Father…” Yusuke’s eyes became misty. “I’d like that very much.”

* * *

Eguchi parked his car on a street in Yongen-Jaya, just a block away from LeBlanc. As Yusuke stepped out of the car, he took in the unfamiliar scenery. He knew which way LeBlanc was, but marveled that in all his years of coming to Yongen-Jaya, he’d never really stepped foot outside of his usual route to LeBlanc, Sojiro’s house, or Dr. Takemi’s clinic. Perhaps someday soon he’d wander the neighborhood and see what else it had to offer.

As Yusuke and Eguchi headed for LeBlanc, Yusuke couldn’t help but notice that Eguchi had a massive smile on his face.

“You seem to be in good spirits, Father.”

“How could I not be?” Eguchi grinned at Yusuke. “It’s a big day for us.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Yusuke smiled. “Between you, me, and mother’s spirit which endures in her painting, our whole family is finally going to be together.”

“That’s right.” Eguchi opened the door to the cafe, allowing Yusuke to enter first.

“Hello, Boss” Yusuke said cheerily.

“Hey, Yusuke.” Sojiro had a dour look on his face.

“Good day, Sakura-San.” Eguchi closed the door behind him.

“Hey.” Futaba was crouching in a booth near the back of the cafe, typing away at her laptop.

“Ah, Futaba.” Yusuke stared at Futaba awkwardly. They hadn’t really spoken since the day Dr. Takemi told them they were related. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Government work gets stressful. I took a sick day.”

“Should you not save those for days you are actually ill?”

“Eh.”

“You guys want some curry?” Sojiro asked. “Just got done making a fresh pot for the lunch rush.”

“That sounds delightful” Yusuke sat at the counter.

“No thank you” Eguchi said.

“Father, you really mustn’t pass up this opportunity. Boss makes the finest curry in all of Japan.”

“I’m not really a fan of curry.”

“Well, ordinarily I wouldn’t be so bold as to try and change your mind, but that may simply be because you’ve never had LeBlanc's curry before.” Yusuke patted the empty stool next to him.

“I’d really just rather take the Sayuri and get lunch later.” Eguchi walked over to Yusuke and rested his hand on his back. “Come on. Your friend Kawanabe is waiting for us to deliver the portrait to your exhibit, after all.”

“That’s your cue” Futaba said.

Yusuke’s attention turned to the back of the restaurant. Slow footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs from the attic. Akiko Kawanabe emerged from the stairway, wearing a displeased expression. His head facing Yusuke directly, he let his eyes trail to the Sayuri near the cafe’s entrance.

“I must say, I’m surprised, Yusuke-Kun.” Kawanabe’s eyes returned to Yusuke. “I never expected that the original Sayuri still existed in the world. And I certainly didn’t expect it to be the new piece you wished to add to your exhibit.”

“Kawanabe-San!?” Yusuke rose from his stool, Eguchi’s hand falling off his back. “What are you doing here?”

“What are YOU doing here, Yusuke-Kun?” Kawanabe shook his head with a look of utter disdain on his face. “Using your mother’s artwork as a promotional stunt? You’ve always displayed so much integrity. Don’t tell me the success you’ve just found is already going to your head.”

“Of course not!” Yusuke pleaded. “I just wanted my mother’s work to be appreciated for what it was, instead of being associated with the lie Madarame built around it.”

“I see.” Kawanabe’s expression softened. It shifted from harsh and judging to sad and sympathetic. “Well, I don’t necessarily agree with the methods, but I suppose your motivation is admirable, Yusuke-Kun.”

“I cannot take all of the credit” Yusuke said proudly. He stepped aside and gestured to Eguchi. “It was my father’s idea.”

“Your father?” Kawanabe cocked an eyebrow.

“You don’t recognize him?” Yusuke asked. “This is Ryoichi Eguchi. My biological father.”

“‘Eguchi’?” Kawanabe’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes, well…” Eguchi laughed nervously. “It has been many years since I was engaged with the wider artistic community. I’m sure Kawanabe-San doesn’t remember every art broker he’s ever met.”

“Well, that’s certainly true” Kawanabe said. He glared at Eguchi. “But I HAVE dealt with an art broker named Eguchi. He retired to Osaka ten years ago.”

The bell above the cafe door rang.

“Would you be willing to attest to that, Kawanabe-San?”

Makoto walked into LeBlanc, wearing full police uniform. It had been a while since Yusuke had seen her looking so angry, and the room became uncomfortable very quickly. She was holding a black folder in her hand.

“Makoto?” Yusuke looked around the room. Makoto, Sojiro, Futaba, and Kawanabe were all glaring at Eguchi, who was becoming nervous very quickly. “What’s going on here!?”

“That guy isn’t your father, Yusuke!” Futaba pointed at Eguchi angrily. “He’s a con artist!”

“What are you talking about!?” Yusuke scowled at Futaba. “The blood test-“

“Was tampered with” Makoto said. “An anonymous tip to the hospital where your blood was tested had them look into their system. They found some malicious code that changed the results of your blood test to match Eguchi’s. Or should I say…” Makoto pulled a sheet of paper out of the folder. It contained multiple photos of a younger Eguchi, identical to the one of him and Yusuke’s mother, but in each one he was with a different woman. “Jiro Takagi, conman wanted for questioning in multiple cases of identify theft and fraud.” Makoto replaced the photos in the folder and pulled out an official police document. “This is a warrant for your arrest. Please come peacefully, Takagi-San.”

“This cannot be!” Yusuke looked at Eguchi in horror. “Father, say it isn’t so!”

“Son,” Eguchi said, “I-“

“Don't listen to anything he has to say!” Futaba stood up in anger. “Everything he’s told you about being your dad is a lie!”

“But he knew my mother!” Yusuke protested. “The photo-“

“Is a fake.” Futaba picked up her laptop and held up the screen to Yusuke. One window on the screen showed Futaba’s scan of the photo Eguchi gave Yusuke. There was also a web browser open showing a page full of photos of a girl with the same face as the one in the photo dressed as figures from classic paintings, including “The Birth of Venus” and “Girl With a Pearl Earring”.

“What is this!?” Yusuke asked.

“This is Mona Lisa, a niche cosplayer who dresses up like classic works of art." Futaba pointed to the photo of “Yusuke’s mother”. “I reached out to her and asked her if anybody had paid her to take pictures of herself as the Sayuri. When I told her it might be part of a scam, she revealed that a man named ‘Jiro Takagi’ had commissioned exactly that.”

“No…” Yusuke stepped away from Eguchi, overcome by sadness. He leaned against the cafe’s counter for support.

“From there, she put me in contact with a model who referred him to her.” Futaba closed her laptop and put it down on the table. “Turns out there’s a chain of models he’s hired for similar schemes.”

“All of these models shared stories which matched up with details on several unresolved fraud cases a senior detective told me about” Makoto said. “All of the victims were young professionals who grew up in foster care and were just making a name for themselves in their chosen fields, featured in magazines and news reports. They were all approached by a man matching Takagi-San’s description claiming to be their real father. After a few weeks of buttering his marks up, he would claim to be in financial trouble and get them to give him money, then vanish from their lives entirely.”

“This guy didn’t reach out to you until after that TV special about you, right?” Sojiro asked.

“Damn it.” Kawanabe’s face scrunched up in anger. “If I had known they were going to air all of that information about your past, Yusuke-Kun, I never would have suggested you do that interview. It made you the perfect target for this charlatan!”

Yusuke silently glared at Eguchi. Eguchi was clearly upset, but voiced no words of denial.

The bell above the cafe door rang again. Another police officer walked in.

“Niijima” the officer said. “He still here?”

“Yes, Yamamoto” Makoto said. “Did you search the car?”

“Yeah.” Yamamoto held up a black duffel bag. “Found this in the trunk. Figured I’d ask our suspect what he needs a tarp, a license plate that doesn’t match the one on the car, a screwdriver, and a rag and bottle of chloroform for.”

“That’s an easy one” Futaba said. “He was gonna knock out Yusuke once they were alone, drive off with the painting, and swap the plates later so the car couldn’t be found if there were any witnesses when he left Yusuke on the street.”

“Yes, I was thinking the same thing” Makoto said, looking at the Sayuri. “A famous painting would sell for a lot more money than could be swindled from a young artist.”

“You were going to render me unconscious!?” Yusuke loomed over Eguchi furiously. “You were going to steal my mother’s painting!? You concocted a story about being my father just to swindle me!?”

“I don’t have to answer you” Eguchi said.

“No, but you do have to answer us.” Makoto grabbed Eguchi’s wrists and cuffed them. She grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him towards the door. “Jiro Takagi, you’re under arrested for tampering with hospital records, attempted fraud, and multiple cases of past fraud.” Eguchi said nothing as he was marched out the door. Right before Makoto stepped out of the cafe, she looked back at her friends. “Officer Yamamoto will have to take statements from all of you. And Yusuke, I’m sorry about all this.”

* * *

Yamamoto’s questioning took about half an hour. When he was done, he left for Dr. Takemi’s clinic. A worn out Yusuke stood in the middle of the room, stiff and unmoving. He felt that if he tried to move, he’d surely fall. Kawanabe gave Yusuke a sad smile.

“I cannot imagine how you must be feeling right now, Yusuke-Kun. But I hope you can find some solace in the fact that that man’s machinations bore no fruit. You still have your money, your mother’s painting, and your integrity as an artist. It may be a shallow comfort, but nothing has been taken from you.”

Yusuke stared dead-eyed at Kawanabe. His mouth barely opened and he might have mumbled something resembling words of thanks, but it was just too quiet to make out.

“Well, I hate to leave you at a time like this, but I have other business I must attend to.” Kawanabe looked at Sojiro. “I’m certain he’ll be fine with you two.”

“Of course” Sojiro said.

“Excellent.” Kawanabe put his hand on Yusuke’s shoulder. “Call me when you’re feeling better, Yusuke-Kun. My wife and I would love to have you over for dinner sometime.”

Yusuke gave a half-nod. As Kawanabe made his way out of LeBlanc, Yusuke kept standing in the middle of the cafe, still and silent the whole time. Once Kawanabe was out of sight, Sojrio came out from behind the counter and led Yusuke into a booth.

“Have you eaten today?”

Yusuke shook his head.

“Alright.”

Sojiro walked off. The sounds coming from the kitchen were familiar to Yusuke, but he wasn’t really processing anything besides the feeling of despair eating away inside of him, so he didn’t pay them any mind. Yusuke was finally brought down to earth by the familiar smell of curry sitting right below his nose. He looked down to see a plate of LeBlanc’s signature dish right in front of him.

“Eat up” Sojiro said. He sat in the booth across from Yusuke. “Low blood sugar won’t do your mood any favors.”

Yusuke slowly took a bite of curry. Sojiro noticed the tiniest bit of light return to his eyes. He started rapidly shoveling curry into his mouth.

“Some things never change, huh?” Sojiro looked up at Futaba, who was still sitting at the booth in the back. “Futaba, could you grab him some water?”

“‘Kay.” Futaba casually strolled over to the sink and filled a glass. By the time she brought it over to Yusuke, he was already scraping the last bits of curry and rice off his plate. She put it down in front of him and sat down next to Sojiro. Yusuke grabbed the glass and chugged it down in seconds. He exhaled as he put down the glass.

“Thank you” Yusuke said.

“You feeling better?” Sojiro asked.

“Somewhat.” Yusuke’s expression was still dour. “But I would be lying if I said all was well.”

“Can’t say I blame you.” Sojiro leaned back into the booth seat. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I feel like a fool.”

“The guy tampered with a blood test. You shouldn’t have expected yourself to figure that out.”

“But I never should have agreed to the blood test!” Yusuke’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. “Futaba was able to discern that the photograph was a forgery immediately! I am an artist! I am supposed to have a trained eye for detail that would notice such things!”

“Don’t beat yourself up” Futaba said. “You were excited by the idea of meeting your real dad. That’d stop anybody from thinking clearly.”

“It didn’t stop you.”

“I already have a dad” Futaba said. Sojiro smiled at her. “I wasn’t in the market for a new one.” 

“Yes, I let my desire for some kind of paternal figure lead me astray. Just like with Madarame.” Yusuke sulked. “I was fooled twice, so the shame is on me.”

“Look, kid, I know that it’s rough. But just having a dad isn’t a guarantee that things’ll be great.” Sojiro’s face turned sour. “I never really got along with my old man.”

“Yeah, and Ryuji and Haru’s dads were abusive jerks” Futaba added.

“I get that it feels like there’s something missing, but you can’t let your life be defined by the stuff you don’t have” Sojiro said. “You’ve got a lot of folks who care about you. You were happy with that a week ago, isn’t that enough?”

“Of course.” Yusuke took a deep breath and relaxed a little. “I am grateful every day for all that I have thanks to my friends. Even in this miserable situation, were it not for your intervention Futaba, I would be unconscious on the side of the road and my mother’s painting would be gone forever.”

“Just get to the ‘but', Inari” Futaba said.

“Yes, well, the fact remains, I was still excited at the prospect of having a living relative. And to have that torn away and revealed as a lie so quickly is rather crushing.” Yusuke sighed. “Although I suppose I should find relief in the fact that I did not have time to get even more attached to him.”

“It’s not your fault.” Futaba gave Yusuke a rare tender look. “You’re not responsible for the lies that jerk told you.”

“Indeed.” Yusuke crossed his arms. “What manner of lout does that? Pretending to be our father. What a lowly deception.”

“Um… That’s not…” Futaba didn’t finish her statement. She closed her eyes and groaned angrily through clenched teeth.

“Futaba?” Yusuke leaned forward. “Are you alright?”

“Yusuke, the guy only tampered with your blood test.” Futaba slumped over, completely disgusted. “He isn’t your biological father, but he IS mine.”

“What!?” Yusuke’s eyes widened. “But I thought-“

“I wasn’t on the news, Inari!” Futaba slammed her fist on the table. She immediately regretted her choice, trying to shake the pain out of her hand. “I popped up as a match because the program he used to hack the blood test was a really inefficient one that accesses every recent entry in the database, then after editing the desired test, returns all matches.”

“So by sheer coincidence, he happened to match his actual daughter while editing my results!?”

“Yeah.” Futaba sulked. “Turns out I get my hacking skills from my no-good con artist father.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Sojiro patted Futaba’s head. “You get your genius from your mother. The only thing Takagi gave you was some of the raw material that gave you life, but he has nothing to do with what it got shaped into.”

“That’s correct” Yusuke said. “You use your prowess to help others, not steal from them.”

“Both of you kids are who you are because of the choices you’ve made.” Sojiro smiled at both of them. “Some of the people you’ve met and the things that have happened to you have influenced that, but you’re you because that’s who you are. So no more brooding over some bastard who’s got nothing to do with it, ok?”

“Very well said, Boss.”

“Ok, Sojiro.”

“Good. Now scooch out.” Sojiro pushed on Futaba’s shoulder. “I need to get back behind the counter.”

“And I must return to my studio!” Yusuke rose from the booth dramatically as Sojiro and Futaba stood up. He started heading for the cafe door. “I believe that after today’s events, putting paint to canvas shall be just the thing to return to my old self!”

“Wait up!” Futaba put her hands on her hips. “You haven’t paid for your curry!”

“Futaba,” Sojiro said, “he doesn’t have to-“

“No, Boss, she’s right.” Yusuke reached into his pocket. “I shan’t take advantage of your kindness. Allow me to- Oh dear.” Yusuke looked at Sojiro bashfully. “I seem to have left my wallet at home this morning.”

“Oh yeah, I bet you just ‘forgot’, you freeloading Inari!” Futaba yelled.

“‘Freeloading’!?” Yusuke puffed up his chest. “How dare you! I-“

“If you two are going to fight, take it outside!” Sojiro pointed to the door. “I don’t want you scaring away customers!”

Yusuke and Futaba stepped outside the door, glaring at each other. Sojiro could hear their continued yelling from the alleyway.

“I’m not letting you get away with ripping us off!”

“I have no such intentions!”

“So what, you’re gonna go get your wallet and come right back!?”

“If you insist, I shall happily do so!”

“I don’t trust you! Leave your monocle as collateral!”

“I need this to see!”

“You still have one good eye, don’t you!?”

“You cannot seriously expect me to-“

“GO FURTHER!” Sojiro yelled.

Slowly, the sounds of bickering faded off into the distance. And after a very trying afternoon, Leblanc was peaceful once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending took so long to write because I lost pretty much all motivation to tell this story after Chapter 2. I more or less explicitly came up with all of this just to see how people would react to that "reveal".
> 
> Never write a story to troll people, kids. It's only kinda worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Update: This fic's been changed to use Joker's canon name.


End file.
